A Secret or a Sin
by EmilyRose09
Summary: From red dresses to red doors to red feathers, Lucas can't seem to get Brooke out of his head. How long until Peyton realizes she's a second choice?


**Disclaimer: Yes, I own this. I also have a pet Unicorn and play Quidditch. **

**A/N: This may or may not be a oneshot depending on the response. It's set about two to three years into the Leyton marriage and it's in Lucas' POV. Enjoy and Review!**

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_Red dresses. Red doors. Red feathers. Red lipstick. Red flowers. Red Queen of Hearts._

It was a unique color—red. It was bright and vibrant, sexy and dazzling, as were the people who wore it.

Peyton never wore red, Lucas realized. For someone who prided herself on being so different and daring, it was strange that she never donned the intense, exciting color. Maybe she just wasn't brave enough. Or maybe she feared she'd look ridiculous.

Peyton always wore dark colors—navy blue, midnight black, olive green, and muddy brown. The same colors he wore, Lucas disappointedly realized.

_God, they were similar, weren't they?_

They dressed the same, they listened to the same music, they read the same books, and they watched the same movies.

He vaguely remembered something he'd once said to Peyton._ Everybody says we're like twins._

At the time, it was a comforting statement—a safety net of love built on mutual interests.

Now Lucas wasn't so sure. When he thought about it, they even looked the same. They had matching blond hair and similar soulful eyes that hinted at their messy, complicated backgrounds. They almost looked related, like siblings or cousins.

He knew compatibility was important in any relationship. That had always been the very foundation of his relationship with Peyton. They were both tortured, desperate souls with tragic histories just searching for something to believe in.

It had worked for the longest time between them because of that. It had seemed destined, fated, romantic even. They knew the other so completely because they were two of the same.

It was supposed to be epic. And at the time, it had actually felt like that, but as the years of their marriage dragged on, he realized it was something else entirely.

It was totally, inexplicably boring. It was almost as if the drama had never existed in their relationship. They had their happily-ever-after. And yet, it was obvious they had absolutely no idea how to deal with it.

Their love had thrived off of drama—love triangles, cheating, car crashes, psychotic stalkers, school shootings, and pregnancy complications.

It had all served just to make them stronger, but now they were supposed to be drama-free and create a happy family for Sawyer, but neither knew how to do either. So because of that, their marriage suffered.

Each day, they read the same articles in the newspaper and came to the same conclusions on world events. They'd hear a song on the radio and listen in quiet silence. It was almost as if they had nothing to talk about. And their whole world became dull and uneventful because of it.

They both prayed for some catastrophic event to occur in their lives, if only to find some new disaster to conquer together and prove to the world they were still meant to be.

But nothing happened. _Ever. _

Lucas just desperately wanted to spice up their sex life. He tried to take Peyton on dates and he'd even buy her sexy lingerie as presents just to push them in the right direction. But for someone who claimed to be so good at sex, it became painfully clear that Peyton was exceptionally average at it.

She tried out few positions and in few places. She'd go to bed early most nights and ignore him whenever he kissed her neck or massaged her shoulders suggestively. Lucas had always imagined she'd be kinky once they'd married, but she was just as uncreative as him. Maybe even more so.

He wanted to act out scenarios with her—plumbers, French maids, babysitter, and cougars. There were so many possibilities, but Peyton wasn't remotely interested.

It was odd that this was her dream—a mundane, sexless marriage.

It was so monotonous that he wouldn't wish it on anyone. Their lives were in desperate need of revitalization and it always seemed to lead back to that very specific hue of color—scarlet red.

The color itself was enough to excite Lucas. And the connotations that surrounded the color? That seemed to always lead back to his youth and specifically the girl that had entranced his mind and captured his heart with that very color.

_Brooke Davis._ Her name alone sent shivers done Lucas spine. It conjured up an image of sensuality and strength in the form of a petite brunette bombshell coated in red.

Red commanded attention and it was always hers when she wore it.

The red outfits she dressed in became her signature uniform. They were fiery and thrilling and out there—the perfect showcasing of Brooke's own personality. She was so sure about herself and of her decisions, unlike Lucas.

Brooke was confident, definite, and certain about everything. All the while, Lucas had spent a decade wavering about his career, his ability to play basketball, and his love life.

There was such a distinction between them.

She was popular and easy to get along with; he was the loner with too much emotional baggage.

She was wealthy and experienced; he was poor and unwittingly innocent.

She was unstoppable and fearless; he was hesitant and broken.

They were so different and had less than nothing in common except for their mutual physical attraction to each other. In fact, they were practically opposites. Broody and cheery. Happy and tortured. Light and dark.

And yet, when they'd been together it had balanced out beautifully.

Lucas had brought out the deeper, more vulnerable side to Brooke. She became intellectual and caring and selfless because of him. Brooke brought out a lighter, happier side to his typically morbid behavior. She made his life enjoyable for once. She made him realize that it was okay to be happy and she taught him how to strive for it.

_Why couldn't he and Peyton find a balance like that_, he always wondered. Now the answer came to him easily. They were _too_ similar. They brought the same things into the relationship and nothing new that challenged the other.

He didn't have the heart to tell Peyton how often his mind wandered to the seemingly unimportant color of red. She wouldn't understand the meaning behind it and what it had meant in his relationship with Brooke.

There were doors painted red just to keep Brooke in his life. There was a small red feather that he kept to that day in a box in his closet. There was red lipstick on lips that called to him like no other. There were red flowers exchanged.

And then that card. That damn Queen of Hearts that he had so desperately wanted to be Peyton. Everyone thought they were supposed to be together, right? Even Brooke it seemed. But why did he feel like he'd ignored some cosmic sign by ignoring the red on the card?

Because in all honesty, Peyton couldn't be the Red Queen. She couldn't be red _anything_. That belonged to Brooke Davis alone.

He wanted to call his high school girlfriend and divulge this revelation, but what was the point? He was married and so was she.

He'd made his choice—the wrong one admittedly—and now he had to live with it.

But that didn't mean he had to remove all red from his life forever. He went to a home improvement store that very day and bought multiple cans of paint. He painted his and Peyton's bedroom the color of apple red.

When Peyton asked him about it, he didn't have an answer. Not one that was reasonable, at least. All he had was the unforgettable memories of a girl that was the true Queen of his Heart and a daunting color that would forever remind him of what should have been.


End file.
